


A Traditional Veretian Wedding

by IllicitDixie



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: 5+1 Things, Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Auguste (Captive Prince) Lives, Laurent is 18, Laurent is Terrifying, M/M, Misunderstandings, Public Sex, Strangers to Lovers, The War Goes Badly for Akielos, Traditional Veretian Wedding, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:21:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27738346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IllicitDixie/pseuds/IllicitDixie
Summary: “I thought that we should have a traditional Veretian wedding. That way you’ll always have a memory of Vere whilst we’re in Ios.”Damen wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but Laurent turning bright pink hadn’t been high on his list. He couldn’t tell if he was nervous or angry. Finally, he watched as Laurent struggled to gather himself.“I'm just surprised at the suggestion. You do know what will be expected of us, don’t you?” Laurent replied, searching Damen’s face for any sign of embarrassment"Of course" Damen said, lying.a.k.a. Five times Damen definitely DOES NOT know what happens in a Veretian Wedding and one time he very definitely does
Relationships: Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 137





	1. A Simple Misunderstanding

**Author's Note:**

> Laurent is 18 when the Akielon's attack, causing the war to go very differently. After a brutal stalemate, he proposes a marriage between himself and Prince Damianos to end the fighting. He just wasn't expecting Damen to suggest a traditional Veretian wedding.

If anyone were to ever ask Laurent what it meant to be Akielon, he would only have to point at Crown Prince Damianos for them to understand. Well over six foot and muscle-bound, he was born with the physique that defined the warrior race of Akielos, and left lesser men trembling at the sight of him. As Laurent discreetly raked his gaze over the prince, he wasn’t sure if he should be trembling from fear or something else entirely. Standing beside him he was aware of how far up he had to look to meet Damen’s eyes. In a fair world a man like that would be hideously ugly, but alas Damen, as he’d been asked to call him, also happened to have a charming dimpled smile, warm brown eyes that crinkled as he looked at you and tousled curls to top off what was already a dangerously attractive man. Really, Laurent concluded, it would all be ok if the devastating force of nature that was Damen wasn’t channeling his entire focus only on Laurent. Shaking his head briefly at the questioning look in the other mans eyes, Laurent took a deep breath and signed his name at the bottom of the treaty. Around them cheers came up from the crowd of spectators. An eclectic mixture of severe Akielon kyros opposite flamboyant Veretian courtiers. Filling the gap between the two stood Auguste, his resplendent armor dwarfed by the brightness of his smile and contrasted beside him Damen’s own father, Theomedes face blank and unwelcoming.

His attention was pulled back to Damen as his booming voice shook the air.

“Peace at last. Let Akielos and Vere stand side by side united from this day on!” The sentiment was echoed by those inside the tent and carried out into the ranks of soldiers outside. Shouts of “Peace” disappearing into a cacophony of cheering as thousands of voices celebrated the end of the bloody war between the two nations.

Even Laurent, who prided himself on his control found a smile crossing his face. He’d never thought that one day, as the second prince of Vere, he would ever bring about the end of a war. Yet under his fingers was the very treaty he had personally devised, and it was his plan which Auguste and Damen had agreed to. It was a giddy feeling knowing that he’d helped save hundreds of his people’s lives, and Laurent focused his full attention on imprinting the sound of cheering into his the memory. This was abruptly shattered by what felt like a boulder colliding into his side.

“Oof.” Was Laurent’s eloquent response to Damen wrapping his arms around him and lifting him from his feet. For the life of him, Laurent could say no one other than Auguste or perhaps his mother had ever hugged him. Suspended in the air, he tried to figure out what he should do, and tried not to feel too awkward frozen within Damen’s grip. Yet despite his reservations, when he turned his face to meet Damen’s, he found his smile widening to match the one Damen wore.

“What are you doing?” He asked, hoping his tone came across as friendly, without his usual bite to it. It seemed to work though, as Damen shrugged his shoulders, the motion going through Laurent, who he was still holding.

“I’m happy. The war is over and we’re married men.”

“Those are probably good reasons, I guess.” He paused, expectantly, but Damen just nodded in agreement. Withholding a sigh, Laurent carefully wriggled an arm loose and patted Damen on the back politely.

“You can put me down now.” This carried a little more of his sarcasm, and prompted Damen to chuckle, a light flush of embarrassment spreading over his face as he put Laurent back on his feet.

Having regained his footing Laurent found himself unsure what he should do now. Damen seemed to feel the same way, as they found themselves staring at each other, unsure what to do next. Before the silence could get any more awkward Laurent’s treacherous mouth opened.

“When are you –“ he began

“You’re surprisingly beautiful.” Damen interrupted. Both of them having started speaking at the same time. Another silence formed, each waited for the other to continue.

Once again Laurent found himself floundering. His usual response would be an insult or reprimand, but between the leftover giddiness from the treaty and this man now being his husband, Laurent was unsure how to respond.

“Oh, um, thanks.” Was what finally came out, and Laurent wished fervently that he’d said nothing at all. Now he sounded like a vain idiot, unable to string two sentences together.

Seeming to sense his awkwardness Damen ploughed on.

“It’s just, the way my father talks about you, I’d expected you to have fangs or… something.” Even Damen seemed to realize that he shouldn’t have said that. But having dug his grave he seemed keen to lie in it.

“Not that I’m saying you’re a snake. I guess I just wasn’t expecting the Serpent of Vere to look, like, well, you do.” This final nail in the coffin was accompanied by Damen gesturing towards Laurent, as if it was obvious that Laurent should look like a moustache twirling villain, plotting in the dark.

There went the good feelings. Laurent rapidly felt his face going blank as anger rose within him. It was a sentiment that Laurent had heard on many occasions during the war. Every step of the way, from hiring Vaskian raiders to disrupt Akielon supply lines, instigating a salt-and-burn policy in Delfeur and courting the Patrans to harass the border of Aegina he’d been doubted and molly-coddled. Whilst he could understand a lack of experience being a valid argument, too often his looks had been used as a justification for why his plans couldn’t be trusted. He’d proven them wrong, and he’d prove this prince wrong too.

“And you’re exactly what I expected.” He hissed, his previous good will rapidly vanishing. “A bumbling barbarian who only thinks with his prick.” He stepped forward into Damen’s space, hand coming forward to grip said member, causing Damen’s eyes to widen in shock.

“You were right about one thing though. I do have fangs,” He bared his teeth “and I bite.” With that he squeezed hard and relished the pained grimace that spread across Damen’s face.

Stepping back, Laurent composed himself, gaze quickly sweeping the room to see if anyone had seen the altercation, but everyone was distracted with celebrations.

“I hope you’re looking forward to the consummation as much as I am.” He could almost laugh as Damen’s hands came together protectively to cover his crotch, as if the thought of having it anywhere near Laurent was frightening.

Laurent spun on his heel and stalked away before the prince could find a response. His confident stride wilting for only a second as he found himself under the disapproving gaze of his brother. Walking up to him he tried to project confidence as his brother continued to watch him in silence. Finally, after what felt like a minute Auguste spoke.

“You should apologize.” He said

“But I didn’t do anything wrong!” Laurent replied, a burst of indignation rising within him as Auguste only raised a delicate eyebrow in response. “Besides, he insulted me first.” The eyebrow stayed raised, and Auguste crossed his arms. “Auguste, please. He basically called me ugly and duplicitous to my face. What kind of person says that to their new husband?”

This seemed to get through to Auguste, who sighed and uncrossed his arms, one of which came to wrap around Laurent’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry Laurent, you’re right, that isn’t what I’d expected. Normally it’s you insulting someone, not the other way round.” This was punctuated with a glare in Damen’s general direction.

Laurent found his irritation vanishing in the face of his brother agreeing with him, his arguments dying on his tongue. The corner of his mouth curled into a small smirk.

“I may have called him a barbarian… and threatened to bite off something important to him” He confided, causing a smile to blossom on Augustes face and the arm around his shoulders to tighten, pulling him into Auguste’s side. The smile vanished after a second though and a more somber look took over.

“But you were right about something Laurent. Damen _is_ your new husband, and this treaty relies on you two getting along. At least in public.”

Laurent found himself nodding in agreement. Surrounded by the festive mood all around them, Laurent was reminded that his battle was only just beginning. Whilst it was true Damen was unfairly attractive, this was a marriage of convenience and there was a lot riding on Laurent to get along.

Seeing the look on Laurent’s face, Auguste forced a smile back onto his own.

“Of course, if he is intolerable, we can always call this all off now. I don’t mind fighting for your honor little brother.” He mimed pulling a sword from a scabbard and swept it through the air.

Groaning, Laurent shoved his way free from Augustes grasp. “I can protect my own honor just fine.” He called over his shoulder, head shaking in quiet laughter as he walked over to the rest of Veretian delegation.

Meanwhile Damen found himself beside Nikandros on the other side of the tent, despair filling his chest.

“I’m an idiot Nik.” He bemoaned.

“True. But you may have to be more specific.” Was the quick reply

Damen gestured towards where the two golden haired princes were talking.

“I called him ugly and a serpent in the same breath! What was I thinking?” Damen's dejection was palpable, but Nikandros only laughed in the face of it.

“You’re right, that was stupid.” He said between chuckles. “Of course, I didn’t expect any better when I saw the blond hair and blue eyes. The pair of them were basically tailor-made to shut off your brain.” Nikandros’ hand came up to clap Damen on the back.

“Don’t worry Damen, you’ve just got the rest of your life to make it up to him.” This only caused Damen to groan louder, as if suddenly remembering he was married to the man he’d just insulted.

“He probably hates me now. What should I do?” He asked, puppy eyes looking to Nikandrs for answers.

“I wouldn't know, I’ve never been married before.” Seeing the dejected look on Damen’s face, Nikandros sighed and considered the question seriously.

“I guess you could start by apologizing. Maybe try and make it up to him somehow to show that you’re sorry.” Damen took a moment to think this through, before nodding along, his bad mood disappearing to be replaced with his usual good cheer.

“You’re right Nik, that’s exactly what I’ll do.” Mind seemingly made up Nikandros watched in bemusement as Damen made his way across the divide separating the Veretians from the Akielons and began speaking to a female courtier, a Lady Vannes if Nikandros remembered correctly, fishing for ideas as to what sort of present the Prince of Vere would like most.

It was two days later before Damen saw Laurent again. He’d tried to find a moment to speak with him, but both warcamps were busy enough readying to leave that he’d been unable to catch him alone. Or Laurent had been avoiding him, both seemed equally plausible. Now that it was finally time to depart from Marlas, Laurent would be forced to meet with him, as they journeyed south to Ios. He sat astride a beautiful Patran destrier, both the horse and it’s rider austere and regal in the early morning sunlight. The sight of him was enough to root Damen in place, simply admiring the view. He was dressed in tightly laced Veretian riding outfit, dyed a deep blue to match the shade of his eyes. Even from a distance Damen could see how it clung to his body, showing off his swordsman’s physique in a way Damen was sure was going to find entirely distracting on the long ride home.

His inspection was interrupted when Laurent turned to look in his direction, and their eyes met. For a second Damen was sure that Laurent would retreat, but instead he stirred his horse and rode to join Damen. There was a moment of silence as Damen searched Laurent’s face for any indication of what he was thinking, but it may as well have been carved from stone.

Deciding he would have to make the first move, Damen took the initiative. “I’m sorry for what I said back in the tent. I didn’t mean to insult you. You’re a proven warrior and I shouldn’t have made any judgements before meeting you. Will you let me make it up to you?”

Laurent’s already tight posture grew even more rigid as Damen spoke, as if on the verge of interrupting him, then suddenly became lax.

Turning away so Damen couldn’t see his face, Laurent said “I should apologise as well. I lost my temper and said some things unbefiting a prince of Vere.” He paused before continuing wryly. “I meant what I said, but I shouldn’t have said it.”

This admission forced a laugh out of Damen, he probably deserved it after the way he’d behaved.

“How do you mean to make it up to me?” Laurent inquired, an amused glint entering his eyes. “I would accept you groveling at my feet, but as you are my husband, I am willing to compromise. You may beg my forgiveness instead.” He said magnanimously

“I will do both if it meant you’d forgive me.” To demonstrate he dropped to his knees, feeling the mud squelch beneath them. It was worth it to see Laurent’s eyes widen in surprise. “Dearest Laurent, light of my life, apple of my eye, can you find it in your heart to accept my apology.”

Laurent remained impassive, until, slowly, a hand came up to stroke his chin.

“You call that groveling? Your head hasn’t even touched the floor.” He said it with such imperiousness that Damen found himself grinning, and lowered his forehead so it was just above the mud. He held it there for the count of three breaths, until Laurent finally broke.

“Very well, I suppose you’re forgiven.” Laurent drawled. Damen’s grin turned into a beaming smile and he jumped to his feet, quickly wiping his knees clean.

“In all seriousness, I wasn’t lying when I said I want to make it up to you.”

“I thought you just had?” Laurent replied. “I guess I could ask for your kingdom, but it seems I already have that.”

Damen found himself laughing lightly at that. His suggestion would probably seem trite in comparison to having Laurent become his king, but it was important to him to have them start their marriage off on good terms.

“A good friend of mine told me that actions mean more than words. I want you to know that I am sorry and that what is most important to me going forward is for you to feel at home living in Akielos.” He paused briefly to let the conviction in his voice carry over. “So I thought that we should have a traditional Veretian wedding. That way you’ll always have a memory of Vere whilst we’re together.”

Damen wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but Laurent turning bright pink hadn’t been high on his list. Was he embarrassed? Angry? As controlled as Laurent’s face was Damen wasn’t sure how to interpret the reaction.

“I refuse.” Was Laurent’s eventual response. Was this his plan to get Laurent into his bed, by making it a part of the treaty? Then, thinking of Auguste he softened his tone. “That’s very… sweet of you, but I’m leaving Vere behind me, it’s best I get used to that fact sooner rather than later.”

“Are you sure?” Damen asked. “It’s important to me that you feel comfortable. I believed it would help show the people of Ios Vere is welcome. I thought you’d like the idea” At least that’s what Lady Vannes had suggested Laurent would like when Damen had asked. Apparently they were close.

Laurent struggled for a reply. He hadn’t been expecting something so conniving from Damen, to pretend this was for him whilst using his sense of duty to force him to agree to this. He was right of course, a show of unity in the capital would go a long way to calming tensions across Akielos. Simultaneously it would send a message across Vere that despite losing their prince, they still had enough power to force the Akielons to adhere to Veretian culture. Despite his anger, Laurent felt a small amount of respect, surprised that Damen could think up such a politically brilliant move, whilst using it to sleep with Laurent. Still, he couldn’t give up without one more try.

“It’s a lovely thought Damiano – Damen- “ He corrected as Damen gave him a look. “I was just surprised at the suggestion,” Laurent debated how best to approach this before the answer came to him. “Are you sure _you’ll_ be comfortable having a Veretian wedding? It will be quite exposed, having all of Ios watching” He searched Damen’s face for any sign of embarrassment. It was common knowledge that Akielons were prudes. “You do know what will be expected of us, don’t you?”

Damen didn’t know, he hadn’t asked Vannes at the time. But how different could a wedding really be? You just said your vows, swapped rings and were married right? So Damen nodded, glad that Laurent was even considering the idea after how quickly he’d rejected it at first.

“Of course I do. So long as you’re there with me I don’t mind.” He said

Laurnet hid his surprise, sure that Damen would at least hesitate before going ahead with this. Part of Laurent had hoped he’d been bluffing, hoping to get a reaction out of him. He took a deep breath and gathered his resolve. He was a Veretian, this was part of his culture and he refused to be embarrassed about it. If he had to do this for the treaty to go forward than he would.

“Very well, Damen, I agree. Let’s have a traditional Veretian wedding.” Yet even as he said it, Laurent found himself wondering if it really wasn’t too late to have Auguste call it all off. What had he gotten himself into?


	2. Tickets To The Show

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate titles: Keeping It In The Family and RSVP  
> In this chapter Damen is a Certified Freak and Laurent is alternatively confused, pissed-off and horrified (although not necessarily in that order)

It was a week’s ride from Delfeur to the keep in Sicyon, even with half the Akielon army splitting off to reinforce the Aegina border should the Patrans decide to continue their hostilities. In that time Laurent had kept a gimlet eye on Damen for any further signs of manipulation. Yet despite his careful observation, Damen had remained blissfully straightforward. If anything, he went out of his way to spend time with Laurent, filling the long hours of riding with commentary on which Akielon nobles owned land in Sicyon and tales of the adventures he’d had whilst visiting them. It’d started to wear down even Laurent’s determination to be as uncaring as possible. Nevertheless, Laurent had dutifully noted down any relevant names, economic details and agricultural information that might become relevant during his reign.

Unfortunately, most of what Damen said were things he’d already learned through spies during the war, so he was forced to pay attention to Damen telling him how he’d fallen from an tree and nearly broken his neck racing to reach an orange on the highest bough. Finishing the story Damen paused expectantly, but Laurent refused to share any of his own childhood antics. Laurent wasn’t sure what Damen was trying to do by being so friendly after having already revealed his hand, but he refused to play a role in it. In the pause between tales they crested a hill and he could finally see the fort ahead of them; the residence of Menidos, one of Damen’s Kyros. They were to stay the night here, for which Laurent was glad. Despite being a competent rider, even he was uncomfortable after being in the saddle for so long. 

Seemingly unbothered by Laurent’s silence, Damen launched into the next story. This time something about hunting for snakes in the wheat fields surrounding the keep, allowing Laurent to turn his mind to other things. He’d been allowed a retinue of thirty guards to protect him, and a further thirty servants to take care of his needs whilst in Akielos. It was them who were handling the brunt of the work in organizing the wedding. However it was still up to him to oversee the proceedings and authorize any expenses. As it was Damen’s idea, Laurent had been given permission to use royal funds for the wedding, an allowance Laurent was determined to exploit. It seemed all a bit ridiculous considering they were already married, but this was more for the people to see than for Damen or Laurent. As such, as far as he was concerned, the Akielons were in for the greatest, and most expensive, wedding they had ever seen. However, there were still a few details he couldn’t organize on his own, which would mean speaking to Damen. Returning his attention towards the man in question he could see he was wrapping up his story, arms swinging as he mimed punching someone or something, Laurent hadn’t been paying enough attention to know which.

Clearing his throat to get Damen’s attention, he interrupted.

“Yes, yes, that’s very interesting. Now, if you don’t mind, I wanted to speak to you about something other than yourself.” Despite the insult, Damen just looked pleased that Laurent was talking to him in something other than monosyllables. To further that impression, he turned his horse towards Laurent’s, so that they were riding so close together their knees might bump. Not one to compromise, Laurent nudged his horse to the left, leaving a foot of space between them.

“It’s about the wedding ceremony.” He paused, waiting for Damen to stop looking at the space he’d created between them. When he had his attention, he continued.

“In a traditional Veretian wedding it would be customary for the Council to be present, plus a few select notable courtiers, however, as should be obvious,” he waved his hand to encompass his retinue, “they won’t be joining us. As such, I wanted to know who you would like to be present in their stead.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” Damen replied. “There are only a few people I definitely want to be there.”

“And they are…?” Laurent drawled when Damen stopped, thinking.

“Well, my father has to be there.”

Laurent’s hand jerked reflexively in shock, nearly pulling his horse off-course as he tugged on the reigns. Immediately he could feel a blush rising to paint his cheeks scarlet.

“Your father?” He repeated for clarification. Surely he’d misheard? _Even in Vere_ there were some things you didn’t do in front of family.

As if he lived to defy Laurent’s expectations, Damen nodded in confirmation.

“And my brother of course.”

“Of course.” Laurent parroted, his brain shutting down at the thought.

“That’s very … personal.” Laurent broached. In response Damen’s shoulder came up in a nonchalant shrug.

“They’re the people closest to me, and it’s my wedding, of course it should be personal.” He said, as if it was perfectly normal, expected even. Suddenly Laurent found himself reconsidering all of his intel he’d received on Akielon traditions. Every spy, document and record confirmed that Akielos was a nation of prudes, yet by Damen’s own admission all of them were wrong.

Laurent swallowed, his throat dry, as he tried to wrap his head around what Damen was saying.

“Is this a royal family thing?” He asked hopefully.

“Not really.” Yet again Damen shrugged, “In most Akielon weddings everything would be far more public. My father had nearly five hundred people filling the Great Hall for his! This is more a me thing, if I had to be honest.” He turned to Laurent as he said this, eyes wide and shining, as if he hadn’t just admitted to being a pervert.

Laurent edged his horse another foot away from Damen.

“Of course it’s a you thing.” Laurent replied. “Why am I surprised? You’re certainly proving to be one of a kind.”

Despite the sarcasm dripping from each word, Damen looked as though he’d just received a glowing complement.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t want Auguste to be there then?”

The look on Laurent’s face must have told Damen everything he needed to know on that subject.

“I’m surprised.” He admitted. “You seemed close.”

“Not that close.” Laurent whispered, horrified. He couldn’t imagine having Auguste witness his consummation; he wasn’t sure who would die of embarrassment first!

They rode in silence for a while, each pondering their own thoughts.

“Anyone else I should know about? A forgotten aunt? A young nephew?” Laurent eventually asked, somewhat surprised at his own courage.

“Oh yeah, I can’t believe I forgot.” At Laurent’s terrified look Damen laughed. “Not another family member, don’t worry. I’d like Nik – Nikandros” He clarified at Laurent’s vacant expression. Laurent nodded; Nikandros had joined them for much of the ride. He’d exclusively ignored Laurent for the duration, a sentiment Laurent had happily reciprocated. He was currently Laurent’s favorite Akielon.

“I’d like Nik to be there. I’ve known him since I was a child. We’ve been through so much together, it’d be weird not to have him at my wedding.”

Compared to wanting your family to watch you bed your new Veretian husband, this seemed practically normal. Laurent would honestly take what he could get at this point. In Vere it was practically expected for best-friends to sleep together at some point, so having one watch wasn’t the strangest thing. With that in mind, and despite the fact that Laurent wasn’t sure he wanted to know, he found himself asking.

“Have you and he ever…” He gestured crudely, choking on the last few words as a blush covered him from head to toe. Laurent had never had a best friend growing up - Auguste didn’t count - so he’d never experimented, nor had anyone of his suitors ever interested him. Yet even as he finished the sentence Laurent found himself wishing he hadn’t said anything.

It took Damen a moment to understand, then it was his turn to blush. It was harder to see on his darker skin, especially when Laurent could barely bring himself to look at him. If you’d asked Laurent at the start of the week what he would be talking to Damen about, he would never imagine he’d be having this conversation. He decided to chalk it up to a mixture of exhaustion and Damen’s own insistent pestering.

“What! Me? With Nik? Together? No!” His blush was rapidly turning green, and Damen had to hold back the urge to vomit at the thought. What on earth had given Laurent that idea?

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I asked that. It’s unlike me.” For a second Damen wondered if Laurent could read his thoughts.

“Of course you wouldn’t invite someone you’d slept with to your wedding, that would be ridiculous.” Laurent continued, hoping to get back on track. Unfortunately, Damen’s face had contorted itself in a way that could only mean one thing.

“You wouldn’t do that right? It would be the height of stupidity to bring a lover to a wedding that will decide the fate of our nations. Let alone to witness the ceremony!”

Rather than respond Damen turned to face away, suddenly ensnared by landscape. They were close to the keep at this point and were passing through the small town that had sprung up around it. There wasn’t a single thing worth looking at.

Laurent could feel incredulity rising up within him. Was this part of Damen’s game? Just when he’d started to let his guard down, lulled into a sense of complacency by Damen’s inane chatter he sprung this. Maybe he was hoping this would be Laurent’s tipping point, although Laurent couldn’t fathom what the goal was. Whatever the reason, Laurent refused to give him that satisfaction.

That was until Damen finally opened his mouth.

“Jokaste is very important to me. She –“

“She!” Laurent’s temper reared it’s head and reason left the window. His knuckles turning white where they gripped at the reigns.

“She’s been with me for years.” Damen ploughed on, ignorant of the danger, “I know it’s not ideal, but I’d like her to be there. I swear she won’t cause trouble.” At least he hoped she wouldn’t.

But Laurent wasn’t listening, the sound of his blood roaring in his ears blocked everything out.

“Are you fucking mad?” The words seemed to leap from his mouth without thought. “It’s worse than not ideal. There’s isn’t a chance in hell your goddamn mistress will be part of a Veretian wedding ceremony.” There was only so much humiliation Laurent was willing to stand and he’d reached his limit. “What’s next?” He spat, “Shall a litter of your bastards carry the rings!”

Rather than wait for a response he spurred his horse on leaving Damen in the dust. If he stayed near him any longer Laurent was sure he’d pull his sword and where would that leave the treaty? The gall of the man, suggesting to bring a woman he’d slept with to watch him do the same to Laurent. His horse thundered down the road, pedestrians scattering before him. In no time at all he was in the keep’s courtyard and dismounting. The yard was filled with their welcoming party, with what had to be Meniados, Kyros of Sicyon, waiting at the head of the group. Laurent brushed past him without a second glance; he was in no mood to talk with anyone. Right now he needed to be alone.

He turned to a slave instead who cowered under the force of his gaze.

“Take me to my rooms.” Rather than leaping to do his bidding the man stared, stunned. Impossibly, Laurent felt his ire rise further.

“Did I stutter?” He snarled. “Now!” The man jumped, spun on his heel and nearly bolted towards the keeps entrance, Laurent striding after him.

After the door to the bedroom shut behind him, Laurent suddenly found himself at a loss for what to do. Normally he would verbally flay Damen until he felt better, but that wasn’t an option he could currently follow through with; there was too much at stake. Instead, he paced around them room, his thoughts going in circles as he repeated their conversation over in his head. After what was probably half an hour of stewing he still didn’t feel any better, but by the sounds of things his guards had finally caught up with him. Slowing his pacing he made his way to the door and sat down quietly with his back to it.

Even muffled by the wood he recognized Lazar and Jord’s voices, they must be who were on guard duty today. It sounded as though Lazar had found another tail to chase, and Laurent found himself submerging himself in the inanity of the conversation. He knew how his temper worked and being alone had never helped. Unfortunately, without Auguste, he was now more alone than he’d ever been before. As a prince he would never be able to go out and join them, but sitting here, listening, helped. And as far as he was concerned, if they didn’t want someone to listen in, they shouldn’t talk where he could overhear.

It was hours later that he began to feel his anger fade. Thankfully, Lazar could talk the ear off a wall and had helped distract Laurent from obsessing over how he’d reacted. He still wasn’t ok with having Damen’s mistress at the ceremony, but he didn’t feel as though he was likely to start a war over it. In the quiet of his room he heard his stomach grumbling and realized just how long he’d been sat there. Standing slowly, he felt his back ache from the uncomfortable position he’d been in. Outside the sun had set, meaning he’d missed lunch and likely was late to the feast as well. But he’d be damned before he stayed hidden in his rooms any longer. If Damen was still at dinner then he would confront him, but he wasn’t going to punish himself in order to avoid him.

With renewed strength he quickly washed himself with a wet cloth. He was forced to re-wear his riding outfit, as no servants had dared bring his trunks into the room. Feeling better, he composed his expression and pulled open the door, startling Lazar into silence. He waved his hand at them and they fell into step, one in front leading the way and one behind him.

It didn’t take long to reach the dining hall, and his suspicions were proven correct. Tables were being cleared of half-finished food by slaves and the hall had already emptied considerably. His eyes scanned the room, stopping at the high table for any sign of Damen, and found it empty. At first he thought he might have already left, but then he saw two familiar shapes seated, angled away from him on one of the lounge chairs.

Laurent nodded to Jord and Lazar in a clear dismissal, and they made their way to one of the tables laden with a buffet of food. Laurent meanwhile, walked towards where Damen was sat chatting with Nikandros. Neither noticed his approach as, by the looks of things, both had already had too much to drink.

Damen was sat slumped on the sofa, head tucked into his chest, his hands fiddling with a wine glass. As Laurent approached on silent feet he could hear what Damen was saying.

“Twice, Nik! Twice I’ve ruined things. That’s got to be a record.” The words were slightly slurred and laden with regret.

“Uh huh. You’re not wrong.” Nikandros drawled. Unlike Damen he appeared bored out of his mind. His head was resting on his one hand as he swirled a cup of wine in the other. It was clear he’d been hearing this for a while.

Damen continued as if he hadn’t heard him.

“What am I supposed to do now? I’m still making up for insulting him the first time. It’s not as if we can have two weddings. Look how badly I’m handling the first!” Somehow he managed to slump further into the chair. “I just want this to go well Nik.”

It was strange, Laurent could almost swear Damen sounded sincere when he said that.

“I don’t know,” Nik replied, not bothering to look in Damens direction “Maybe you can get re-married after he divorces you.”

Damen gasped. “You don’t think it will come to that, right?”

Nik shrugged in response. “I don’t know. You did say you were going to bring the Witch to his wedding. If you did that to me I’d probably call it off.”

Damen glared at that, “Don’t call her a witch. And you don’t have to worry about that, she’s definitely not coming now.” He sighed, a sound which was starting to seem repetitive. “I don’t know how I’m going to tell her.”

Nik snorted, “Just sick your new husband on her. He’ll tear her to shreds in seconds.”

Damen renewed his glare. “He’s not like that.”

From where Laurent was standing he could see Nikandros’ eyebrow raise in disbelief. Laurent shared the sentiment; he’d been nothing but uncooperative.  
“It’s true” Damen protested. “He may not smile much or talk about himself, but I can tell he cares deeply.”

Laurent’s eyebrow joined Nikandros’ in disbelief. When had he given Damen that impression?

Undeterred Damen continued.

“I wouldn’t have believed it at first either. But whilst we were making our way through Delpha, I could see how much the devastation affected him. Whenever he saw a village destroyed by the war he’d get this far off look in his eyes, and he always stopped to offer money or kind words to refugees we met on the road.”

Nikandros made a noncommittal noise, clearly unconvinced, but Damen just shrugged. “Anyone who behaves like that has to be a good person.”

“I don’t know Damen. He’s Veretian. He was probably doing it for the publicity or something. They always have a scheme going on.”

Damen just shook his head in response, staring into his wine. “I don’t think that was what it was.”

Laurent meanwhile, tried to process what he’d heard. He hadn’t realized that Damen had been paying so much attention to him as they rode towards Sicyon. He’d tried to be discreet, but clearly that hadn’t succeeded. More importantly, everything Damen had said rung with honesty. Laurent surveyed the room to see if maybe something had tipped Damen off that Laurent was listening in. However throughout the room all of the remaining Akielon’s were too deep into their cups to have noticed his entrance. There was no way Damen could know he was there.

If Damen was being genuine, then perhaps he hadn't asked Jokaste to be there to spit in the face of Vere's strongest cultural taboo. Maybe he should approach this differently to how he had planned? It wasn't like Laurent to change his plans on a split second decision, but this time it felt right.

Deciding he’d heard enough he headed over to the food table, loaded a plate and then walked back to where Damen and Nikandros were sat, making sure to make noise as did so. At the sound of his approach both straightened in their seats, eyes turning to take him in.

Ignoring their stares, he sat down to Damen’s left and placed his plate on the small table by the couch. With perfect composure he began to eat.

It was Damen who broke the silence.

“Laurent! You’re here. I’m so sorry, I wasn’t thinking before. I’ve changed my mind, Jokaste won’t be at the ceremony.”

Laurent deliberately waited to finish chewing before turning to face the pair. He tried to keep in mind what he’d overheard as he responded.

“I…” The words tasted like acid on his tongue, but he forced himself to continue. “may have misjudged you Damen.” He searched for what to say next but came up empty. He still didn’t trust Damen, but it was clear that he wasn’t working against Laurent as part of a plot. Unfortunately, and perhaps _worse_ , it meant that he was doing so out of incompetence or ignorance instead. In either case Laurent wasn’t sure how to describe his opinion on this knew version of Damen. So he decided to leave it at that.

Damen seemed unbothered by his abrupt stop, his face slowly lighting up.

“So you’re not upset? You don’t mind if she comes?” Nikandros facepalmed behind him.

“Upset? I’m the furthest thing from upset.” Laurent’s voice was devoid of all emotion as he responded. “You can bring every slave, whore and milkmaid you’ve ever screwed for all I care.” He may have changed his plans, but he didn't have to be nice whilst doing it.

Damen didn’t seem to believe him, as he was already shaking his head before Laurent had finished speaking.  
“No! It wouldn’t be fair to you. I hadn’t thought what it would mean to have her there on your… on _our_ day.”

Laurent paused, soaking this in. Somehow, with the fill force of Damen’s earnesty directed at him, it sounded even more plausible than when he had said it without knowing Laurent was there.

“No, no, don’t be concerned on my behalf. You make her sound like such a lovely person.” He skewered a piece of meat on his plate with more force than necessary, eyes on Damen as he did so. “I’d love to meet her.”

Laurent wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, or if Damen was simply that gullible, because slowly his concerned expression changed to relief. Nikandros meanwhile had poured himself a another glass of wine, his head shaking in disbelief.

“Are you sure?” Damen asked hesitantly. To which Laurent’s smile was venomous.

“You don’t know how glad that makes me. You’ll love Jokaste, she’s a wonderful person.” Behind Damen, Nik started to choke on his wine forcing Damen to turn and pat him on the back. It was a good thing too, as Laurent was sure he’d have seen the violent look he was sure was on his face. With a deep breath he forced himself to calm down.

“Then that’s settled.” He plastered on a smile. “Is that everyone or is there anyone else I should expect at the ceremony?”

It was Nikandros’ who responded in Damen’s stead.

“It would probably be a good idea for the Kyros’ to be there. It’s important they’re part of it, or you may have trouble later on.”

Laurent found himself surprised to be in agreement with an Akielon. Afterall, that was the entire reason the Council were invited to the consummation back in Vere. He turned his head to look at Damen who slowly nodded his head, as if afraid to ask anything more of Laurent.

“Very well. Correct me if I’m missing anyone: your father, your brother, your best-friend and ex-lover as well as all of the Kyros are to be at the ceremony?”

Damen slowly nodded again. “That’s all of them.”

“Perfect. I’ll have a messenger sent to them so they know what to expect” Finishing the last of his meal Laurent stood. “Then it seems we’re done here. I’ll be in my chambers.” With that he turned to leave, signaling Lazar and Jord to join him as he exited.

Tentatively, from behind him, he heard Damen’s voice call out “Goodnight”. Laurent’s stride slowed for a second before speeding back up. He didn’t return the sentiment.


	3. The Tipping Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damen’d [verb]: An act of caring so strong that it leaves the victim shocked, confused and maybe a little bit in love  
> In this chapter Laurent gets Damen’d and Damen trusts the wrong person

The ride to the city of Tivoli on the border of Mellos, Kesos and Thrace was far different than to Sicyos. For one, most of the army had stayed behind in central Mellos so that they could be deployed to the borders of Patras or Vere at a moments notice. For another, Laurent suddenly found that he could spend time with Damen and only have to spend half his attention watching for signs of duplicity. During the first journey Laurent had struggle to reconcile the cunning warrior able to mow down Veretian soldiers in waves with the friendly persona he’d put forth. Now he was starting to realize that maybe Damen was just as kind as he first appeared, saying farewell to the soldiers as they departed, more akin to a friend than a prince. If anything, Laurent now suspected that this may be who Damen was at his core, with the warrior only rarely showing through.

Tivoli, positioned within central Akielos and settled on the border of three Kyros’ territories, represented one of the largest trading hubs in the entire country. At the pinnacle of the city, sat upon the only hill for miles, was a sprawling palace unlike any of the forts he’d stayed at closer to the border. Descending in tiers from the palace were thousands of homes, ranging from wealthy noble’s mansions sporting colonnades and fountains to ramshackle wooden structures. It was so different to anything Laurent had seen that he found himself trying to hold back the urge to stare at everything they passed. He wasn’t sure he was completely successful, based off the fact that Damen hadn’t stopped watching him the entire time.

Laurent would have snapped at him, but as they’d entered the city-proper, a wave of cheering had exploded from the crowd lining the main thoroughfare, and he found the good mood infectious. It was such a stark contrast to Sicyos that he found himself smiling as he watched children try to push their way to the front of the crowd to see the two princes, forcing parents to chase after them yelling.

Even when the entire congregation had entered the palace itself the laughter of the crowds outside the walls could be heard. It was clear that despite the early hour many were already beginning their own festivities. Laurent wouldn’t be surprised if there was a city-wide hangover the next day. It was with this in mind that when Damen gestured to a slave for a glass of wine at the feast that night that Laurent proffered his own cup. He wouldn’t normally, but figured he might indulge for on this one occasion.

Of course he should have realized that as soon as Damen saw him beginning to relax he would leap on the opportunity and one glass quickly became two. Although, despite Damen’s insistent pestering he refused to drink a third, he may be in a good mood, but he wasn’t that uninhibited. Still, even with only two glasses he could feel a looseness in his limbs and a slight haze in his mind; he was the definition of a lightweight.

Damen was sat to his right, with Nikandros on his other side. They were chatting away with an easy banter that Laurent had always envied. Damen was a very active talker, using his hands as much as his words to convey his point. Laurent didn’t bother to follow the conversation, just enjoying observing Damen in profile. Since deciding Damen wasn’t entirely a threat, he had stopped looking for signs of dissembling and instead started to simply enjoy the view. And what a view. Damen had a strong jaw line, which even freshly shaved in the morning had a fresh coat of stubble by the evening. As Laurent watched, mind hazy, he couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like to rub his hands across it. It was only natural to follow the angle of his jaw to his lips, which were equally as fascinating. It took longer than Laurent liked to notice that they were turned towards him.

His brain scrambled for what he might have been said but came up blank. He thought they’d been talking about a drinking competition, and at some point it seemed Nik had stood up and left. Rather than admit that he’d not been paying attention he decided to guess at a response.

“No, of course not.” Simple, easy, seemed like a plausible answer. He knew it was wrong when Damen grinned, his eyes crinkling at the edges.

“I asked what you were staring at.” He reminded.  
Laurent felt himself flush but refused to let any other sign of embarrassment show.

“You have food on your face.“ He lied, rather than acknowledging his blunder. He gestured to the vague area and watched as Damen futilely wiped at the spot.

“Is it gone?” He asked, to which Laurent shook his head. Damen continued to rub, and Laurent felt the sudden urge to reach out and do it for him. It would seem so natural that Damen wouldn’t even question it; the perfect excuse to feel the stubble under his own fingers.

Steeling himself, he smothered the urge. He wasn’t going to turn into a sap just because Damen had been unfailingly kind for weeks on end, with a charming dimpled smile and warm friendly eyes. Feeling himself getting distracted again he reached for his wine glass and allowed a slave to refill it. He pretended to take a sip.

“You got it.” He said to Damen.

“Good,” Damen said with a chuckle, “it wouldn’t do for the prince to look like a fool.”

“You always look a fool.” Was Laurent’s quick reply, a small hint of a smile taking the bite out of his words. Damen’s eyes seemed to lock onto it, forcing Laurent to relax his expression. Yet even then Damen’s eyes continued to linger for a moment longer.

“Only around you.”

It took a moment for the words to sink in before Laurent laughed.

“Does that ever work for you?” He said, still chuckling. “You are aware we’re already married, right?”

Rather than be embarrassed Damen just shrugged, looking pleased to hear Laurent laugh at all.

“I’ve got to try. Just because it’s arranged doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try and make the most of it.”

Hearing the words warmed a part of Laurent he didn’t know he had.

“Well, if you were aiming to court me then you’re failing at it.” Laurent declared

“Is that so? And how does one go about courting in Vere?

Laurent paused to consider. Is this what he wanted to do? Part of him liked the idea. Damien was handsome and unlike anything Laurent has first believed. Yet they were just coming out of a war; one in which both Damien and Laurent had both played significant roles. It would be negligent to allow any sort of attachment for Damen grow when the war could restart at a moment notice. Of course, he reasoned, if he were to make Damien fall in love with _him_ , then he could use it as leverage should things fall through. All Laurent had to do was remain detached and it would be fine. It didn’t mean he couldn’t have a bit of fun though.

“In Vere”, he began, “it’s customary to first ask the king for permission to begin a courtship. Considering the circumstances, that can probably be forgone.” He paused to think. “It would be typical to begin with a love letter or poetry, something passionate and the slightest bit seductive. That being said, it’s important to begin slow, so you might send three or four before even speaking to your intended.” He stopped again to watch Damen’s face pale at the thought.

Laurent hid a smile at the reaction. Really, Damen was far too gullible for his own good. It was embarrassing that Laurent had ever thought otherwise.

“Once you have their attention, the gifts begin. Not only are you trying to impress the person with your wealth, but throughout the courtship you should tailor the gifts to suit their tastes. As you are heir-apparent to the Akielon throne the gifts would have to be extravagant. When my father courted my mother, he started with gold jewelry, but by the end of it, two years later, he built her the summer mansion on the coast of Marches.

He nearly started to laugh as Damen muttered “Two years” disbelievingly under his breath, eyes wide in shock at the thought. He decided to see if he could push him any further.

“Once things were underway, you might then arrange a few chaperoned meetings to get the chance to talk and impress me. As a prince, it would be expected that you go above and beyond, of course.”

Damen gave a wry nod at that, “Of course.”

“In the past courters have taken their intended on tours of their lands, hosting larger and more decadent feasts at every place they stopped. Other’s have brought the spectacles to them, hosting parades, shows and competitions in their honor.”

Damen grinned at that last part.

“I would win any competition for your honor. I’m unbeaten in the Okton for the last three Great Games. None would best me.” He bragged, eyes shining at the thought.

It was too much for Laurent. Between the alcohol loosening his lips and the determined expression on Damen’s face, he found himself laughing aloud.

Damen’s grin faded for a second, before realization struck and he started to laugh with Laurent. It was a nice laugh Laurent decided, it came from deep in his chest and filled the air with the sound of it.

“I should have guessed,” he said, still chuckling, “was _any_ of that true?”

Laurent let his laughter fade before replying, shoulder coming up in a half shrug. “Some of it.”

In reality most Veretian weddings were arranged marriages. By the time courting began the parents had already negotiated the terms, so anything beyond that was just a formality. It didn’t seem necessary to explain that though.

Damen let the moment linger, a comfortable silence filling the space.

“I don’t think that’s how you would like to be courted.” He finally said.

The statement caused Laurent to pause.

“Oh? What gave you that impression?”

It was Damen’s turn to shrug. “You might like the drama,” he conceded “but you don’t seem to appreciate extravagance.”

It didn’t take careful deduction to figure that out, but Laurent was still surprised that Damen had noticed.

It was clear Damen was expecting him to ask how he would go about courting Laurent, but after that little bit of insight, Laurent was worried how compelling Damen might be. So he asked a variation instead.

“How would you go about courting someone in Akielos then?”

He could see Damen get stumped for a second, unready for the new direction.

“It would be quite different.” He finally began. Laurent knew that was true, he’d researched Akielon courting and wedding traditions whilst writing the treaty after all. It was still interesting to hear what Damen would say.

“For one, they are normally far shorter. Two years would be seen as an insult.” Here he gave Laurent a dry look. “For another, it would be unusual to court one person at a time. In Ios, it was normal for Kyros’ to send their sons or daughters to court to try and catch someone’s attention. There wouldn’t really be a formal process though. You might begin by talking and flirting at meals or in the gardens, anywhere really, and if you got along….” He paused warily for a second, “Then you’d probably start sleeping together.”

He stopped as Laurent faked a gasp of shock.

“It’s normal in Akielos!” he protested. Rather than describe how being intimate with someone could help you get to know them better, he felt the urge to jump to the end. “If you felt a connection you would then ask your family for permission. If they agreed you would marry them, if they didn’t, then the person might agree to become your mistress.”

He stopped again, seeing Laurent’s face become pinched, but surprisingly Laurent didn’t bring up Jokaste.

Finally, Laurent spoke, breaking the tension.

“Well, I should have expected as much of barbarians. From flirting to bedding all within the same sentence. You can be sure I’d prefer the Veretian way” He said with a light tone, belying the critical nature of the words.

Relieved, Damen didn’t bother to protest.

“It may be simpler, but it’s certainly more fun than how Veretian’s do it.” He’d meant for it to sound lighthearted, but instead it came out gravelly and tinged with meaning. Even as he said it, he’d found himself picturing Laurent as one of the many men and women whom he’d courted.

Laurent clearly picked up on that, as he blushed fiercely in response. Sometimes Damen would think he was a virgin by the way he behaved.

“I’m sure.” Was his dry retort. He fiddled with his wine glass for a second, seeming contemplative. Finally Laurent seemed to make up his mind, and gulped down the wine in his glass, finishing it.

“Speaking of bedding.” He stopped again. Damen said nothing, eyes widening at the statement.

Laurent flushed, “Not that!” he hissed. “It’s about the wedding.” Damen tried not to let his confusion show at the change of subject.

“I was wondering where you thought the bed should go.” Laurent tried to go for nonchalant as he asked the question. However, Damen just looked even more confused. “What do you mean?” He finally asked.

“Well,” Laurent began, “I don’t know the layout of the palace. I’m not sure where the best place for the bed would be.”

A bed? Damen wondered. Was this some perverse Veretian thing? He’d heard about what went on between pets and master’s at the Veretian court. It was practically the first thing anyone mentioned when you brought the subject up.

“There won’t be a bed.” It came out slowly, as if Damen were speaking to a child. He might be willing to have a Veretian wedding, but he wasn’t going to have any pets doing that in public; half the audience would flee before the ceremony was complete.

Laurent could feel a cold weight settle in his stomach. No bed? Damen was being ridiculous.

Before Laurent could respond Damen’s face suddenly formed a grin and he started to laugh.

“I get it now. You’re trying to trick me again.” He said through chuckles, “Did you really think I would fall for it twice?”

Laurent kept his face perfectly blank. Was the idea of fucking in a bed really so preposterous? He’d slept in enough of them on his trip to know that Akielon’s used them. His thoughts raced as he tried to figure out why Damen thought he was joking.

“Perhaps you’d prefer the floor then? We can pretend it’s wrestling.” He meant it to sound demeaning. In fact, he was certain that was how it sounded, but Damen just laughed even harder.

“The floor sounds perfect. Or a wall if you’d prefer!” Damen joked, struggling to speak through his laugher. “Just so long as it’s private, I don’t mind where it happens.”

Laurent kept perfectly still. If Damen thought he was actually going to sleep with him on the floor than he had another thing coming.

“Listen you barbarian.” He spat, “I’m not joking. And if you think –“ He was about rip into Damen when they were interrupted.

“Lover’s quarrel? That doesn’t bode well.” The voice came from behind Laurent, forcing him to spin in his seat. By the time he’d finished turning his face and posture were perfectly composed.

It was Kastor, Damen’s bastard half-brother. Laurent scanned the man from head to toe. If he had to describe him, the words discount Damen would be appropriate. Shorter, less broad. Handsome, but not in a way that stole your breath. Judging by the sneer on his face, he hadn’t come for a polite conversation.

“Maybe there’s still time for this ridiculous treaty to fall through.” He said, confirming Laurent’s suspicions.

Laurent couldn’t say he was surprised, Kastor had been very vocal in his opposition of the truce. He claimed you couldn’t trust a Veretian. Of course, Laurent had enough spies in Kastor’s household that he knew the real reason he wanted a war. It was a great way for accidents to happen.

“I’m not sure why you would want that.” Laurent drawled in response. “You were entirely useless on the battlefield if I remember correctly. I heard you lost a Cohort of heavy infantry at the battle of Cannae.” He’d actually lost two Cohorts; Laurent had bribed several Vaskian tribes to ambush them. It was one of the most devastating losses the Akielon’s had suffered.

Kastor’s face contorted in rage, and his knuckles turned white, unhappy to be reminded of his failures. For a second he even reached as if to grab a sword, forgetting they weren’t allowed at feasts.

Damen seemed to notice this as well, as he stepped forward to stand beside Laurent, one hand coming to settle on Laurent’s shoulder as if he was the that needed to be restrained. Laurent stared at the offending appendage for a second before shrugging it off.

“Easy brother. There’s no need to talk about the treaty ending. Laurent and I weren’t quarreling; we were just joking about bedding is all.”

Laurent fumed next to him silently. He hadn’t been joking.

Kastor seemed undeterred however, his furious glare slowly transforming into a leer as he stared at Laurent.

“Why am I not surprised. I should have suspected you’d sell our country for a chance to fuck a Veretian whore as pretty as this one.”

Laurent could feel his temper peak and his compsure begin to slip. It took everything he had to remember he needed Kastor alive should the peace collapse. He was Vere’s best chance at starting at civil war in Akielos after all, and he couldn't do that if Laurent killed him. Of course, that didn’t mean he couldn’t verbally flay him where he stood. Before he could get the chance, one of Damen’s arm came up protectively between Laurent and Kastor.

“Don’t speak to him like that Kastor.” He growled. “He’s not a whore. He’s a prince who saved the lives of hundreds of men. Both Veretian and Akielons.”

Laurent felt his rage sputter in his chest as he turned to look at Damen; whose face was every bit as angry Kastors.

“Saved hundreds of Akielon lives?” Kastor spluttered. “He’s responsible for thousands of our troops dying!" Kastor practically shouted. “He must be a better fuck than I imagined if he’s already got you believing lies that absurd.” A few heads turned in there direction then quickly looked away, unwilling to get involved in a fight between princes.

“Both sides lost men! We were at war!” Damen snarled back, arm still held protectively in front of Laurent. “And it needed to come to an end. It was Laurent who made that happen.” He briefly tore his gaze away from Kastor to look at Laurent as he spoke, before turning back to Kastor.

Laurent felt like a rug had been pulled from under him. His whole life the only people who’d ever defended him had been either been paid to do so or were Auguste. He’d been fully prepared to lash out, but his anger had vanished leaving behind a strange fluttering in his stomach instead.

Damen’s word only seemed to rile Kastor up more.

“If you think the war is over than you’re more deluded than I thought. Less than a month in your bed and he’s already turning you against me. This is how they win.”

Damen nearly reeled at the accusation, his face turning distraught. He clearly hadn’t been expecting this from Kastor.

“How could you say that? You know I’d never turn against you! I love you too much to do that.” He pleaded, all signs of anger gone.

“Do I?” Kastor sneered. “If that were true then why are you defending him so much? If you loved me you would be on my side”

Damen seemed lost, unwilling to reject Laurent, but unsure what to say to convince his brother he was speaking the truth.

His hesitation seemed to be answer enough for Kastor, whose sneer only widened.

“See what I mean? At least now I know where your loyalties lie.” At that he spun away from Damen and stormed out of the hall, people jumping out of his way as he passed.

With his brother gone Damen finally lowered his arm. Neither said anything, an awkward tension filling the space between them. Looking at Damen, Laurent felt the absurd urge to comfort him but smothered the feeling. He was probably the last person Damen would want trying to help him right now.

Finally the pressure grew too much for Laurent, forcing him to break the silence.

"You didn’t have to defend me.” He said, pausing for a second, but Damen didn’t respond. “Nevertheless, thank you.” It sounded odd even to Laurent’s ears; he wasn’t the kind of person to say thank you.

Laurent waited again, but Damen didn’t seem in the mood to speak, the silence slowly edging it’s way back between them. It seemed his relationship with Kastor was a sore topic for him. The urge to comfort him returned.

“It’s clear you love him,” he began hesitantly, “Even I can see that, and this was the first time I’ve met him. If you grew up together he has to know how you feel.” Laurent didn’t know why he said that. He knew that Kastor despised his brother. Laurent had even had his spies encourage those sentiments over the last two years. Still, it seemed to help a little as Damen’s posture began to relax. He still didn’t say anything though, clearly lost in thought.

Laurent tried to think of what to say next but came up empty. Comforting people wasn’t exactly his forte. Apprehensively, he reached out and patted Damen on the shoulder, as he’d seen his guards do to one another. At the touch Damen turned to face him, an intensity of emotion on his face that Laurent couldn’t begin to describe. In that moment it was clear to Laurent that Damen was going to tell him something important, something deeply personal; the thought of which terrified him. In Vere no one wore their emotions exposed like Damen seemed to do. Laurent wasn’t used to seeing such vulnerability on display and he didn’t know how to handle it.

Slowly he pulled his hand back, Damen’s eyes following the movement. It took a second to gather his composure, as he still felt flustered, the feeling of butterflies in his stomach still present.

He needed to leave before Damen said anything heartfelt.

“Thank you… again. And you don’t need to worry about what we were discussing before.” At Damen’s confused look he clarified. “About the bed. I’ll figure something out. Goodnight Damen.”

Finally finished, Laurent took a step back, eyes still trained on Damen. When it was clear he wasn’t going to respond Laurent turned and followed Kastor out, leaving Damen standing alone in the hall.

It took a moment before a hand landed on his shoulder, the same place where Laurent’s had been. Damen followed the arm up to see Nik standing behind him, a solemn look on his face.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked, his tone making it clear that it was ok if Damen didn’t want to.

It warmed Damen to have a friend who cared so much, but he shook his head.

“No, it’s alright. Thanks for the offer Nik, but I think there’s someone else I need to talk to.”

Nik only nodded in response, hand dropping from his shoulder.

“Well, if you change your mind, I’ll have a glass of wine waiting for you.” It was enough to nearly pull a chuckle from Damen. By the way Nik was swaying it was clear the drinking competition had had it’s toll on him. Another glass would probably knock him out. It was still a nice gesture though.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” With that he made his way out. It took longer than it should have to find his destination, as he had to make a detour to find Lazar. He probably didn’t need a chaperone, but he wasn’t willing to risk being wrong. Who better than one of Laurent’s guards to keep watch?

With a confused Lazar following behind him he knocked on the door to one of the palace’s bedrooms. It took a moment before opening, revealing Jokaste in her night clothes. As always, she looked beautiful, even though she seemed confused to see him. It made sense, since the marriage was officiated Damen had made sure they hadn’t been alone together.

Seeming to sense his distress, she opened the door further, inviting him and Lazar inside. A mild widening of her eyes the only sign she was surprised to see the Veretian guard with him.

After having known her for years it only felt natural to seat himself on the edge of her bed, propriety be damned. And, after a second’s hesitation, she joined him.

It took longer than normal to explain what had happened between him and Kastor. Lazar’s presence in the room making it feel awkward enough that he had to talk quietly so as not to be overheard. Sadly, it was a story Jokaste had heard before, even if the prince of Vere’s role was a new twist. As he spoke she reached out and took one of his hands and held it between hers. Before the wedding she would probably have done more, but even the small contact seemed to help.

It took a while, speaking in quiet whispers before the confusing chaos of emotions started to fade from inside Damen’s chest. It was times like these where Damen wondered how anyone could look at Jokaste and not see how deeply she cared. Even putting forth a front, her eyes always gave her away, a gentle kindness shining through. In some ways her and Laurent were similar in that.

Feeling better, he felt ready to broach the other reason he’d come to see her.

“There was something else.” He began, lips curling into a bit of a smile.

Seeing it, she smiled in return. “Hopefully its better news than your brother being an asshole.”

He nodded. “It was something Laurent said. About the wedding.” His voice had returned to normal levels, no longer worried about being overheard. “He mentioned a bed.”

He paused and watched as she processed that. As with Laurent it was hard to tell what she was thinking. Finally, she settled on a smile. Damen would be tempted to call it devious, but all of Jokaste’s smiles were devious.

“Tell me more.”

“Well. It’s a bit hard to explain. You see, he’d just been telling me about ridiculous Veretian courting rituals, so at first I thought he was joking about the bed as well. But when I suggested there was no need for a bed he got angry at me. So now I’m not sure he was joking at all”

He stopped speaking as Jokaste started to laugh. It wasn’t that he hadn’t heard it before, it was just rare for her to be so uninhibited about it.

“I shouldn’t have said that to him, should I.” Damen said sardonically.

Jokaste started to shake her head, her hair swinging with the motion. Finally, her laughter faded, so all that remained was her mischievous smile.

“No. Definitely not. Did you say anything else?”

Damen tried to remember, but so much had happened that he couldn’t say for sure.

“I might have suggested the floor or a wall would be fine…” He said hesitantly

Behind him he heard Lazar start to laugh as well. Damen felt a cold feeling take over him. What had he done this time?

“Oh Damen,” Jokaste said, eyes gleaming, “You’re one of a kind.”

Finally, she seemed to take pity on him, as she leaned forward and explained.

“In Vere one of the most important ceremonies in a wedding is for two pets to consummate the marriage in front of their guests.” At Damen’s horrified expression she started to laugh again. “It’s supposed to symbolize the union between the two people being married. They take it very seriously. And you suggested they do it against the wall.” Some might describe her laughter as cackling at this point, but Jokaste was too dignified to ever do such a thing.

Eyes wide, Damen asked groaning, “In front of their guests? Is that important?” At Jokaste’s nod he groaned louder. “I think I told him that it should be done it private as well” This only set Jokaste off again. After a moment she seemed to catch her breath.

“I wouldn’t worry too much Damen. He’s too smart not to realize that you weren’t _trying_ to be horribly insensitive. He must know that Akielons wouldn’t watch a public consummation.” Damen nodded at that, it _would_ _be_ ludicrous. Finally, his expression began to turn hopeful. Seeing it Jokaste continued. “If you suggested it be done in private, I’m sure he’ll go along with it. So long as it happens, even a Veretian couldn’t ask for anything more.”

Feeling reassured, Damen levered himself up and off the bed.  
“Thank you Jokaste. You always know what to say.”

Her grin was wicked as she responded, “Anything for you Damen.”

He smiled back, guileless, before turning to Lazar and gesturing for him to follow. It didn’t take long to find his quarters, but the entire walk was made strange by Lazar quietly chuckling to himself along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live for Jokaste being petty and Lazar's put up with too much of Laurent's shit not to find this hilarious


End file.
